The session opened with the party standing beside the ancient sage, Angello, in the Swamp Temple as the assassin arrived. The Puppetmaster was a terrifying, oni-like being draped in dark robes from which hung several glowing green flasks that pulsed with an eerie light. He was surrounded by his puppets; the possessed forms of innocent townsfolk whose eyes glowed with the same sickly green energy. The battle that erupted was a chaotic and desperate struggle, as the party tried, on some occasions, to non-lethally subdue the possessed civilians while the Jorōgumo attacked from the sky, using devious tactics like creating an illusionary decoy and shifting into gaseous form to evade capture. Despite their best efforts to show restraint, the sheer number of puppets made it an impossible task. Tragically, all but one of the minions were slain in the conflict; the lone survivor, a gravely injured farmer, was healed by Bao Bao after the fight was over. With the Puppetmaster finally defeated, Angello agreed to tend to the dead and help the farmer reintegrate into society. The party then asked the sage for the path to Hell. Bound by his rules, Angello drew on ancient knowledge and gave them their lead: the flying citadel of the Aarokocra known as The Aviary, which guards a planar nexus called the Well of Worlds.
The party boarded their spelljammer, the goatfloater, and traveled first to Cut-Cut’s monastery to drop off Nathia and Gallyndra, then to the Maukoru Archipelagoto to drop off the Iron Nautilus, and then headed to the Aviary. There, they were met by the Aearee-Krocaa, the stoic guardians of the Well, led by the warrior Lyra Arrow-Wing.
Lyra explained their sacred duty, warning that the Well typically erases the memories of those who pass through it. Access would not be granted freely; the party first had to pass a test of character. They were shown three portals to worlds in crisis: one ravaged by plague, one consumed by war, and one suffering from famine. They were given a single artifact with the power to save only one. Understanding that the true test was in their deliberation, the GOATs discussed the options with empathy and unity, ultimately choosing to save the famine-stricken world and earning Lyra’s approval.
With Lyra as their guide, they entered the
Well of Worlds, a dizzying demiplane of drifting portals. She warned
them that if separated, their only safe return would be through a portal
with a yellow center and a cyan aura. As they navigated the chaos, a
violent portal storm erupted, and a rogue rift tore open, pulling
Lyra and Bao Bao into the unknown. Immediately after, a colossal
Dimensional Dreadnaught attacked, forcing the rest of the party to pilot
their ship through the maelstrom and into the nearest correct portal to
escape.
The ship tumbled out into the strange sky of Nyxivar, eventually landing
near the crystalline city of Kaelon. They were met by the native
Kaelari, slender silicon-based beings who mistook Cut-Cut for a Xixchil
and Lenti for a Frujai scout. After the party was implanted with
universal translators, the Kaelari explained they could not offer a path
to Hell but knew of a Xixchil hive that might help. Eager for the
strange newcomers to leave, they directed the party to a phlogiston
current and politely asked them to never return.
Following the current, the party arrived at a Xixchil medical hive, where they met Doctor Carver, a pragmatic surgeon with a horrifyingly cheerful sales pitch for cosmetic enhancements that was as unsettling as it was memorable. Afterward, Carver offered information on three potential routes. The party chose to tour the quadrant, beginning with a visit to a Vrusk merchant asteroid. There, they laid the groundwork for a future trade route, and Cut-Cut voiced interest in acquiring Vrusk-owned land on her homeworld of Tk'rin'chak (now known as Shaxa). From the Vrusk, the party learned a brief history of Shaxa. The Neogi were driven out by clockwork horrors, which then mysteriously and simultaneously shut down. Their dormant technology was reverse-engineered, allowing the races of this quadrant to surpass the technological advancements of those in Alluria’s. After a short stop on the fungal world of Orikolai, which was educational though not especially useful, the party set course for the fastest passage to the lower planes: Murka.
Upon arriving at Murka, they procured "One Day Shopping Visas" and were directed to a travel agency inside the Hall of Merchants, a monstrous mall filled with bizarre stores, including “Old Bucks” with magic-infused coffee brews, the “Golden Arch” with MEAT™ products and toy prizes, and “Build a Minion” where Adrian purchased a licensed “Fur-Baby,” an animated toy with comically large eyes. The travel agent, assuming they were anarchists, secretly alerted the authorities, and the party was soon ambushed by Murka's tyrant, "The Don," who villainized them on floating crystal-ball cameras before his enforcers attacked. During the fight, a punk goliath skald named Loarkon joined their side. After the battle, Loarkon was so impressed by Korloth's prowess that he swore an oath of fealty, and Korloth accepted him as a loyal cohort.
Loarkon led them to an anarchist tavern, where they learned the true path to Hell. They had to hotwire a control panel at the top of the central Seer's Tower and fly their spelljammer directly into the all-seeing eye at its peak. After successfully manipulating the circuitry, the party flew their vessel directly into the eye. They emerged in Hell, a surprisingly orderly plane of fire, brimstone, and shredding guitar solos, where they were respectfully greeted by a large winged devil named Chevron. He escorted them to Queen Asmontecru, who preferred to be called "Muse".
Amused by their quest, Muse laid out the cosmic stakes. She explained that to restore balance, they needed to collect the angelic artifacts corresponding to six diabolic sigils held by powerful entities across the planes. She revealed that the Grim Rapier held the Death sigil in the Demiplane of Dread; the Phoenix Queen held the Tyranny sigil on the Elemental Plane of Fire; the Rat Queen held the Pestilence sigil in the Endless Swamp; and the Black Hierophant, a man with a split personality, held the War sigil in the Clockwork Citadel. She confirmed that Baba Izza held the Chaos sigil and that she herself held the Famine sigil, along with its corresponding artifact, the Pick of Destiny. She then challenged them to a battle of the bands to win the Pick. Thanks to a masterful performance led by Akemi and powerfully supported by Loarkon's skald abilities and the party’s ever-growing entertainment talents, the Feinting GOATs won the duel. The defeated champion relinquished his fiddle to Akemi, and Muse, true to her word, gave them the Pick of Destiny. She then opened a portal, sending them back to the one place they could safely regroup. The session concluded as the party stepped through, finding themselves back in the Aviary, where they were finally reunited with Bao Bao, who had a harrowing adventure of her own to discuss.
Note: The following writings are from the character's perspective and are often private to the character. They are not considered "in-game" knowledge to the other characters, and any in-character reference to this information would be considered meta-gaming.
Adventure Log by Syd McVay
The group was able
to ask Gello ten questions in total. We learned more about the Sigil of
Lies and the other missing sigils, all of which are tied to artifacts.
Most of our inquiries revealed the current status of our universe and
the influence of higher beings who control the completion of creation.
We also discovered that Hrant—who we know has another personality, in a
sense—is someone we’ve only partially met. Only one of his personas has
revealed itself to us.
We uncovered the identity of Akemi’s friend’s
killer, fulfilling the second reason we came to the Swamp Temple: to
confront the Puppet Master. We set up alert systems roughly a hundred
feet from the central location. I took watch near a tree, and so did Cut
Cut. The alerts worked—but what we saw wasn’t what we expected.
Out came two elderly people and a child. My gut told me they were being
used by the Puppet Master, so I attacked the child immediately. I
regretted it. He had been charmed to provoke others into attacking for
him. These people were innocent. Despite our best efforts, all but one
died. The survivor—Dust Bottle—lived, but it felt more like a loss than
a victory. We did everything we could to minimize casualties, and it
still wasn’t enough.
I was both intimidated and impressed by the Puppet Master. I’ve never
seen abilities like his. After the fight, we arrested him and recovered.
Angelo said he would care for the last survivor and help reintegrate him
into society after the immense psychological trauma he endured.
Our next goal was to find a way to Hell. Gello knew of one path: through
the Well of Worlds. Bao Bao and an Aearee-Krocaa named Lyra guided us.
Lyra explained how the Well functioned. Before we could enter, we had to
pass a test.
Three worlds were presented to us, each
suffering in a different way. One was starving, one was underwater, and
one was plagued. We were given a single artifact that could save only
one. After careful and conscientious deliberation, we chose to save the
starving world. The test was meant to reveal our values. Lyra approved
of our decision and granted us access to the Well.
We had to stay close to Lyra—without her, we would slowly lose our
memories, even our sense of self. She warned us about two portals to
watch for in case we got separated: one red, and one blue with a yellow
center.
Initially, we navigated the Well successfully. But of course, that
didn’t last. Bao Bao and Lyra suddenly vanished from the helm. The group
panicked. I told Phillips to stay on deck while I ran to steer. Echo
followed me. As I grabbed the wheel, a second catastrophe struck—a
monster appeared in the Well.
It was massive. The crew tried magical
defenses, but the creature was immune. Only brute force and swift
navigation could save us. The monster attacked, and Korloth fought
heroically, though he was clearly outmatched. Phillips, though
terrified, stayed focused—I needed him to spot the portal. Cut Cut kept
a sharp eye out and saw one in the distance that looked yellow. I
trusted my gut and steered toward it.
Through expert navigation and raw strength, we escaped the monster and
passed through the portal. It was the correct one—the creature couldn’t
follow us. We emerged into a bluish-yellow portal that led to a chamber
called Nyxivar. We knew we were far from home, but had no idea how close
we were to our goal.
We entered the city of Kaelon and were
met by natives who mistook us for silicon-based aliens. They were honest
and helpful, giving us translation devices that allowed us to understand
others, though we couldn’t speak their language. They couldn’t help us
reach Hell, but they directed us to a nearby medical hive that could.
They asked us to leave and not return. Their communication was direct,
respectful, and matter-of-fact. I appreciated that—though a little charm
might’ve helped in negotiations.
Following their guidance, we
arrived at the Xixchil medical hive. The community greeted us with
cheerful enthusiasm and, again, confusion. They resembled Cut Cut in
some ways—similar communication patterns and genetic traits. Likely
distant relatives.
One doctor persistently encouraged us to undergo cosmetic procedures. I
agreed to a concoction meant to relax the mind and body, unaware of its
steep cost. My group bartered with them, trading a sample of Cut Cut’s
blood for payment. The doctor informed us they didn’t have a direct path
to Hell, but knew of an opening in Murka. We’d need passports and could
only bring one familiar.
Upon arrival, we filled out an ungodly amount of paperwork. I was
already unimpressed. Echo stayed behind—Murka was racist toward the
Undo. I took advantage of the access to collect souvenirs. I’m sure Tom
would appreciate some delicacies.
We were granted one day of shopping and
led to a travel agency in a massive shopping district. One store, The
Old Buck, sold magically infused coffee. Another, The Golden Arches,
served bizarre, inorganic-looking food. I tried it anyway. Thankfully, I
didn’t get sick—and I collected a rare toy from a “kids meal” to give to
Tom.
I also bought a number of potions that seemed to have healing
properties. They were significantly cheaper than anywhere else. Murka’s
consumerism was clearly working on me.
Another store caught my eye:
Build-a Baby. You could buy a license to create an animated toy-like
baby creature. Adrian couldn’t resist and added one to his strange
collection of “pets.”
The travel agent assumed we were
anarchists and alerted the authorities. Murka’s leader, The Don, hosted
arena-style fights as entertainment. He was a bloated, orange-skinned
figure with hideous breath. He summoned minions to fight for him. With
help from a local sympathizer named Loarkon—a bard who rocked out with
Akemi—we defeated them all, including The Don. The stinky orange blob
died as spinelessly as he had lived.
Loarkon, impressed by our bravery and vibes, asked to join our group.
Korloth happily welcomed him.
Loarkon led us to an anarchist tavern that revealed the true path to
Hell. Upon entering, we requested an audience with Muse, the leader of
Hell. She held the Sigil of Lies and was willing to give it up—but only
through a Bic duel.
Fortunately, with Akemi, Loarkon,
Korloth, and myself, we won the duel. Had we lost, I would’ve had to
accept the Sigil of Lies. Thankfully, we avoided that fate. We received
the artifact, and Korloth accepted a magical pick, which he will soon
attune to.
At this point, we were
exhausted and still hadn’t found Bao Bao or Lyra. We returned to the
aviary through Muse’s magic portal. Conrad was missing. We decided to
rest and regroup.
With new knowledge of our mission to collect the artifacts from
different realms to complete creation—we began planning our next steps.
Philip was drained. Echo was hungry. We hunkered down for the night.
Letter to Master Kagemitsu at Tengai-no-mori Monastery by Caylen
Redden
Dear Master,
We had a well-defined plan when we left Tengai-no-mori, but as usual, our recent adventure took several unexpected turns. Armed with information provided by the Man of Answers, taking a trip to Hell seemed deceptively simple. We went first to the Aearee-Krocaa of the Aviary, where, after explaining ourselves and passing a brief test of ethics, we were granted access to the Well of Worlds and a guide for the journey, Lyra Arrow-Wing. Lyra explained a bit about the Well and taught us how to identify portals that would lead back to our own reality, which was fortuitous, because we had barely begun the trip when a rogue portal opened in the middle of the ship, dragging Lyra and Bao Bao, who had been piloting, away to lands unknown. Elyndra quickly took the helm, and we began to look for an appropriate portal to exit the Well. This was complicated by the appearance of a titanic beast, which Lyra later identified as a Dimensional Dreadnaught, which set upon the ship and forced us into a headlong retreat. Our ballistae and Korloth’s blows did some damage, but it was clearly not a battle we could win. Thankfully, we escaped through an appropriately-colored portal with the ship still intact.
Although we did not arrive at our intended destination, the detour was oddly fortuitous. We stumbled upon a place called Kaelon, where we some of the locals, Kaelari. They were not pleased to have visitors and not particularly diplomatic about it, but at least they were non-aggressive and happy to provide information to hasten our departure. Interestingly, they mistook me as a Xixchil, a name I had just learned from the Man of Answers, and directed us to a Xixchil hive, which turned out to be a sort of hospital space station. We were greeted there by a Xixchil named Doctor Carver, and although it was enlightening to meet another Thri-kreen distant cousin, I found his scrutiny and insistent attempts to sell cybernetic enhancements off-putting and almost immediately ready to move on. The doctor did at least provide more specific information about a pathway to Hell, as well as a couple other places of interest in the area.
We decided to take each in turn, first visiting a merchant settlement of Vrusk – more cousins. Not only were the Vrusk aware of the location of Tk’rin’chak (now called Shaxa), they are the current owners! I inquired about acquiring some land there to establish a settlement for any of my people who would prefer to return to their ancestral home. Admittedly, I don’t yet know what such an endeavor might cost, but I provided information that should allow the Vrusk to visit and open commerce with Alluria. Hopefully this will be beneficial for all involved. The Neogi still present a problem, since their territory lies between Alluria and Shaxa, but the Vrusk also shared their knowledge of Shaxa’s history, including how the Neogi were driven from the planet in the past. Similar technology and tactics may be employed to keep them at bay going forward.
Our next stop was a planet called Orikolai, inhabited by a fungal race called Frujai. This location was interesting but the visit was not particularly productive. Any kinship between Lenti and the Frujai was rather more distant than between myself and the Xixchil and Vrusk. The Frujai wished to assimilate Lenti, but that did not seem to be a beneficial or desirable arrangement, so we quickly proceeded to our next destination.
The world from which we would find our path to Hell was called Murka, and it certainly lived up to the reputation of the lower planes. The air was choked with pollution, violence was rampant, and commerce seemed to be the primary goal of existence for the majority of the residents. I imagine it is the kind of world Alluria might become if the Dowelloft Trading Company’s aggressive acquisition tactics were allowed to become the norm. We were granted entry only after completing immigration paperwork, and then only with one-day shopping visas. The Murkans’ racism was immediately apparent, because neither Echo nor the umber hulks were granted entry, being viewed as sub-intelligent or undesirable races. It was probably just as well to have them stay with the ship, though, because I wouldn’t put it past some of the Murkans we encountered to attempt to steal or vandalize the ship if it had been left unattended. We were directed to a travel agency within a Hall of Merchants, but before we could get there, some of the GOATs were distracted by some of the hall’s other offerings. There was a café called Old Bucks brewing apparently magic-infused beverages, and a restaurant called Golden Arch selling some unnatural-smelling meat-like substance. I am typically an adventurous eater, but in this instance I chose not to partake. At least Elyn and Adrian seemed pleased with the trinkets included with their “meals,” if not the food-substance itself. Adrian also purchased a toy from a store called Build a Minion; it is a small stuffed creature with excessively large eyes, sort of resembling a nocturnal prey animal. When we finally reached the travel agency, we were asked to wait while the agent gathered information, but that was merely a ploy to stall us.
All of a sudden, we were approached by Murka’s leader, “The Don,” who made a great spectacle of decrying us as unwelcome, dangerous, and criminal aliens. This was confusing considering that were only allowed on Murka after following their established procedures, we had taken no criminal or even aggressive actions, and we had been actively contributing to their economy. We attracted some attention as outsiders, certainly, but no one seemed opposed to accepting our currency. Despite this, the Don seemed intent upon making an example of us through combat. The Feinting GOATs are not the type to accept unjust treatment or shrink from a challenge, so we rose to the fray. It was not an easy battle; some of the Don’s henchman cast vexing spells, while his small red-capped trumplings dealt swift and savage blows. The Don himself seemed content to hide behind his yes-men and sacrifice some of his other minions to maintain his own vitality. However, he was not prepared for the mobility of a monk or the might of the Feinting GOATs as a whole. We prevented him from escaping, wore down his defenses, and finally put an end to him. Although the gathered crowd was initially hostile, non-supporters of the Don were soon cheering for us, and one, a bard named Loarkon, even joined in to assist. After the fight, Loarkon urged us to seek shelter, informing us that the Don was not truly defeated but that he had a number of clones and would soon be replaced. Loarkon brought us to an anarchist safe house, where members of the resistance helped us lay out a plan to reach Hell. The all-seeing eye at the top of the nearby Seer’s Tower was itself a portal, and by rerouting some circuitry we were able to overload the portal with enough energy to transport us and our ship directly to our final destination. Loarkon opted to travel with us, swearing fealty to Korloth as a loyal cohort.
I’m not sure what I expected from Hell, but after the chaos and hostility of Murka, it seemed pleasantly relaxed and welcoming. A large, winged devil politely escorted us to Queen Asmontecru, who insisted upon being called Muse, and as the Man of Answers had suggested, she was quite willing to provide additional information and aid in our quest. Nothing in Hell can be given for free, however, so in order to provide us with a useful artifact, Muse invited us to make a deal. If we could defeat her champion in a musician’s duel, she would give us the Pick of Destiny. However, if we lost, Elyn would have to accept the sigil of lies. I’m still not much of an entertainer, but thankfully Akemi, with assistance from Loarkon, Elyn, and Korloth, was more than up to the task. We left Hell on good terms with its Queen and with another critical piece of the puzzle we’re trying to solve. Muse obligingly provided a portal directly back to the Aviary, and there we found Bao Bao and Lyra safe and sound.
During our travels, I have continued pondering names. I introduced myself to the Xixchil and Vrusk as Zik’Chak and am growing more accustomed to the name, although I still find it somewhat formal and am happy that the GOATs continue to call me Cut-Cut. As for the umber hulks, I think I will see how they feel about the names Zan-kalak and Qhari-f’taal, although Korloth has given them the nicknames Paul and Carl, which I’m afraid may have already stuck. Finally, we have taken to calling the ship the Goat Float, and while I think that suits the party, I think a majestic leaf ship also deserves a more formal Thri-kreen name in case a situation might call for it. What do you think about R’sa-tel’riik?
Best,
Cut-Cut